


Weaver

by FantasyProfessor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Ancients, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magic, Magical Accidents, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyProfessor/pseuds/FantasyProfessor
Summary: Impossibly ancient beings fuck up. You're there. Congratulations.





	1. Chapter 1

The Big Bang. That's what they say the universe started with. Well, they're not wrong. At least, that's what my universe started with anyways. A big bang, and then nothing. Maybe even less than nothing. Is there less than nothing? 

I'd hoped it was just a dream, but they say if you die in your dreams, you die in real life. Maybe that's what happened. They said that the Weavers weren't real, but I guessed I was one of them now. 

That didn't mean that I liked it. And that definitely didn't mean that I liked the amount of eyes staring at me right now. I wasn't sure how much more uncomfortable I could be with this situation, but I felt like I'd find out before the day is done. 

There were 47 of us in the same room. 50, if you counted the three heads on one of them as separate people. Were they people? Er. Let's not get into that. 

The room was, well, dark, and yet not. There wasn't a visible source of light anywhere, and there sure as hell wasn't any type of floor or walls, but the word 'room' is stuck in my head so I'll go with that for now. 

Everyone could be seen, though, or maybe sensed was the proper word for it. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face no matter how much I waved it, but I knew it was there.

"Are you quite done?" A voice rang out, sounding akin to a violin being strummed in the direction of a wind turbine. 

"Oh, uh, yes. Sorry. I've just never been, well, here before." I made a few wildly sweeping gestures to the air in front of me. I'm sure I looked as impressive as I felt. Which is, to say, not at all. 

What did they want with a bumbling idiot of a human anyways? The only thing I learned how to do properly was make a grilled cheese. Though, I will say, I make a damned good grilled cheese. Not that it matters much here. 

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here. And it is, to say, quite a bit of an accident that you are actually here."

"An accident? How do you just accidentally summon a human to the realm of the Weavers? I thought that was impossible." An accident? What a joke! This had to be a joke right? How do the Weavers, a race of impossibly ancient and skilled magical beings, accidentally summon a human of all things?

"Well, you see, we were wondering if we could pull something from your realm should it die and," A thoughtful pause and a mandible click sounded, filling my head with the image of a praying mantis before finally the voice started again, "You happened to die at the correct moment." 

"So you summoned me, by complete accident?" Unbelievable! Well, maybe I didn't want to be sucked into some grand divine adventure and be granted mystical powers, but if I was going to be anyways, then why'd it have to be just an accident?! 

"Yes, and now we have to decide what to do with you. We can't simply send you back, as too much time has passed already, and your body has already been buried-"

"-What do you mean buried?!"

I felt a wave of annoyance in that instance, and simply shut my mouth, feeling much like a child who had just interrupted their parent. 

"-Thank you. As such, you must remain here. If you wish to leave, it'll be once you've acquired a new form. One of your choosing, perhaps, though we're not sure how this will go for one such as yourself."

I felt all the eyes in the room shift to the one who'd just spoken, and then back to me as if expecting something. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't know what to do. 

I was lead to my quarters soon after. Dimly lit with beige walls, a cot pushed up against one side, a walnut dresser, and a closet for storage. Storage of what? Who knew. I didn't have anything besides, presumably, the clothes on my back. 

I looked down, finally being able to see my hands for the first time since arriving here. They really didn't lie about the lack of form, did they? It sort of looked like what would happen if you took the remains of coffee grounds left in the filter and mixed it with liquid gelatin. I wondered if it would harden eventually. Maybe that would be my form here. A walking, talking, humanoid piece of gelatin. 

Wouldn't that be just a damned thing? Get pulled into a mystical realm, get given powers, doomed eternally to look like a gelatin person that someone made with a cookie cutter. Like a gingerbread man but so much worse. 

Wait, would I be given powers? Do I have any? They didn't say anything about that. Maybe I'll just be a gelatin man forever. Just plain old Gelatin George. People like slime girls right? Is there an equivalent for gelatin? If I got a date, would they be a monster fucker?

Nevermind, there's more important things to worry about than if my future partner is a monster fucker or not. Though I am thoroughly voting yes, just in case you were wondering. 

I figured I might as well get used to it, and so I walked further into the room. I approached the walnut dresser and pulled the top drawer open, peering inside of it as if the grains of wood would reveal a secret to me if I looked hard enough at them. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the wood had anything to tell me. Not even after I pulled all the drawers open and pushed them closed again. Empty except for, I suppose, whatever could constitute snot after I stuck my head too deep into one and was repelled back out of it by my own sneeze. Glad to know allergies still exist in a place like this.

My next stop was the closet. Maybe there would be something hidden in there. Clothes. Skeletons. A first aid kit, maybe, though whatever I would need it for now I still don't know. Maybe an ectoplasm cut, or coffee ground spillage. Like what happens when you cut open a bean bag and it all just spills out onto the floor. 

My search into the closet yielded no results either. Not even after I went into it and closed the doors on myself. Mind you, I was standing in there for a while, but somehow I doubted that standing in the darkness was going to help me any. Maybe it would help me think better, but I doubted it.

I sank down to the floor of the closet and huddled up, wrapping my arms around my knees and placing my chin on top. Suddenly, I felt very much like the child that I must appear to them as. In all fairness, they were somewhere in the ancient age of range and I was spitballing at my 20s at best. To them, I really must seem like an infant suddenly thrown onto their front doorstep like an unruly football. 

A muscle spasm shot down my left leg and caused me to kick the closet door open. The force was enough to send it swinging outward as much as its hinges would allow before forcing it to swing back halfway towards me. I suppose that's enough sitting for now, though I could not tell you how long I had been sitting in that closet contemplating my own insignificance. 

I got up slowly, expecting some sort of stiffness or consequences for sitting for so long, but surprisingly there were none. No stiffness. No soreness. Nothing. I stood still for a good few moments, just to ensure I wouldn't collapse to the floor or spontaneously catch fire, and then promptly stepped out of the closet.

I closed the closet door behind me and made my way to the cot. It was simple, able to accommodate just me, and had a white blanket and pillow on it. I began to wonder if they didn't like bright colors, or if they really thought that my tastes were that bland. I'm going to go with the latter, even if it is insulting to me. 

Either way, I was far too tired and out of it to continue whatever internal debate I had started. I peeled back the blanket and laid down on the cot, not caring if I slept with my shoes on, or if I even had shoes on to sleep in. What mattered was that I didn't have enough energy to even think, and so it was time to go to bed. I curled up under the blanket and soon found myself asleep, not content, but at least not awake.


	2. Chapter 2

Drowning. I was drowning. A red stream came from the middle of my forehead as I sank deeper and deeper into the black abyss. I could see the light above me, but it shrunk with every passing moment, growing smaller and smaller as the time passed. I saw the bubbles make their way to the surface, breaching it in a way that I couldn't possibly hope to achieve.

Suffocating. I was suffocating. I couldn't breathe. Not that I particularly tried. I was underwater, or I assumed I was anyways. I couldn't possibly breathe down here. There wasn't any air. It was possible there wasn't any water, but I was drowning either way. Doomed. Damned. 

I gasped for air against my better judgement, my body having had enough of being oxygen deprived and wanting desperately to breathe again more than anything. I was rewarded with a sharp pain in my chest. Too much, something here was too much for me.

The red from my wound was filling the water now, mingling with the black and starting to obscure my vision. Red. Black. No other colors existed to me in that moment. Not even the colors of my own body existed. It was all drowned in black and red.

My body made one last, desperate attempt at survival. I took in a huge breath, my lungs expanding and pushing against my rib cage. Tighter, tighter against my bones until finally they snapped. Black overtook my vision, completely washing out the red from view.

I awoke in the small cot that I had fallen asleep in, my body feeling entirely too light and empty for my liking. I stared at the ceiling, too out of it to bother even moving my head.

Was that just a dream? It certainly seemed like it, but it seemed like it had something to tell me as well. Something important.

Not a prophecy, just to clarify, but something about me. Something about my current situation. Maybe it was trying to tell me that I still wasn't ready for this. For what I'd been thrown into.

I didn't need a dream to tell me all that, though, as I was well aware of how ill equipped I was to handle all this. So, then, what purpose did that dream serve? Besides making me anxious and terrified to move, that is. 

Right, I should probably get up before someone comes in to get me. I'd rather not talk about last night at all if I could help it. 

I slowly sat up, putting my hands behind me to prop myself up. I moved slowly, turning and cautiously planting my feet on the floor as if I was half expecting it to be gone by the time I tried to stand up on it. Maybe that could happen, actually. Maybe I'd just stand up and fall straight through where the floor used to be. Maybe my cot was floating through nothing.

I decided to stop and look around before going any further. The walls were still beige, much to my disappointment, the dresser was still there, and the closet was still there. Right, everything else was still the same and still existed. That helped to ease my worries some.

I stood up and stretched, though I felt no stiffness or discomfort besides the kind that my mind had decided to give me. I headed out of the room, pausing in the doorway and grabbing a hold of the door frame with one hand. I peered around the corner and found myself taken aback at what I saw.

I could see more than I did yesterday, for one, but it still wasn't enough to give me a clear view of where I was. I could now see who else lived here. Well, see would be being generous. It was more like groups of heat distortion that gave off the silhouette of the being that they belong to.

Regardless, I could now see them moving around instead of just sensing them like before. I'm not sure if that's what they really looked like, or if I'd ever be able to truly see them. All I knew was that everything became just a little bit clearer because of it. 

But where did I go from here? What did I do now that this was my reality? My head was still spinning, and this certainly didn't do anything to help me get it on straight.

I got a flash of red across my vision and a blinding headache in reply to all my internal questioning. I suppose the most I could do now was move forward. Literally.

I walked forward until I was met with a familiar feeling. The one with the voice like some sort of distorted violin. I didn't know what their name was, or even what they were, but from my limited perception I could tell they were a few feet away from me. Thankfully, my limited sight seemed to return before I got too close to them.

They seemed to sense me coming as I felt like I should stop and wait for them to acknowledge me further.

"I see you've had an eventful night," They stated calmly, dismissing the being they were speaking to and turning to face me. 

It was in that moment that I realized, once more, how insignificant I was compared to them. Not only in size, but in sheer energy. It seemed to roll off them in waves. Like the ocean, if I had to compare it to anything. And, like the ocean, it could be nice and comforting, or all consuming, drowning you and dragging you under. Just like…

"Still lost in your own head, I see." Their voice rang out again. 

Had I been staring at them this whole time? Shit. Better say something then. 

"Sorry. I've just had a rough night." I admitted, wondering if they could feel it. 

If so, did they really need to ask? Maybe they did so as common courtesy. Did such a thing even exist here? Surely they must have their own culture and views on politeness.

"I can tell. I suppose we should all be grateful that your night didn't go any worse than it did."

Before I could ask what they meant by that, they reached out to me. I was frozen in place as their movement seemed to be less that fluid, choppy even. Their arm, or what I assumed to be an arm, jerked and cut in and out of view as it grew closer and closer to me.

My chest tightened and my breathing became uneven as they were a hair's breadth from touching me. A pause, and a flash of uncertainty before I felt them prod into my forehead.

A searing pain ripped through me and a million gunshots sounded simultaneously, causing me to try to recoil away from the touch. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop feeling. Stop being. Stop existing. 

I don't know how long it lasted, or when it stopped, or when I ended up on the floor. I don't know when my knees gave out on me, or when I first started crying like it would save me if I just cried hard enough.

Sobs wracked my body, and I could feel a twinge of guilt from the being leaning over my curled up body. I threw my arms up and over my head, tucking my head in between my knees.

I didn't bother asking what they did to me, even if I was capable of speaking it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference now.

There was a long swath of silence, save for my own choked sobbing, before I finally heard the voice again. I wiped the tears from my face, my crying having finally come to an end for now.

"I apologise deeply. I didn't think you would be that sensitive." They seemed genuinely apologetic.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. I wanted to stand upright, shout "Damn right you should be sorry! What the hell did you think would happen?! Why would you ever think that was a good idea?!"

I wanted to do something, anything, but the most I could do was slowly stand up. The most I could do was ensure that I didn't lose my balance, to make sure that I didn't tip over and hit the floor again. I felt like a toddler that was trying to walk again.

Because I was. I was a child walking amongst adults. I didn't even know how much growing up I had to do until I could be considered one of them.

I didn't know if I wanted to be one of them, but that didn't matter now did it? I had my life ripped out from under me, and now I was going to get a second chance at it.

I mean, I didn't have my friends, didn't have my family, and I sure as hell stuck out like a sore thumb, but I didn't have a choice in this situation. 

I became vaguely aware of the being trying to steady me, but I shook my head and began to wander off. They seemed to get the message and only watched me for a few moments before disappearing themselves, leaving me alone to wander. For now.


End file.
